New life: Tales Of Terry
by ZNT
Summary: Years after the Lone Wanderer left Vault 101, he continues his exploration of the Capital Wasteland, and his role in it has had a dramatic affect.
1. C1:Trapped In dumpsterland

_New Life C1: Trapped In Dumpsterland_

I looked up, the shotgun I held moving in unison with my head as I scanned the surrounding area. My eyes were partially blinded by the sun, but I didn't dare block it with my hand. Moves like that were only made by idiots. I had gotten shot doing stupid things like that. Suddenly, I heard it. I jumped up, my feet pushing me off the rocks I had taken cover behind as I sighted my enemy. It was skinny, skeleton like, it was wearing little more than shorts, and as soon as I pulled the trigger, it's fate was sealed. The pellets sprayed from my shotgun, ripping through it's head with ferocity, forcing it's skull and brain to become one in a meaningless mess of blood and gore.

The feral was launched backwards, soaring five feet before hitting a pillar and finally landing. I listened carefully, before twisting to my side and firing off more pellets without even bothering to aim; the feral was quickly deterred by the bullets going into it's chest. It was still alive though, so I fired again. It's head was blown apart, much like the other ferals' had. I quickly went through the pockets that the mutated human had, and found six caps. Four caps on the other.

I kicked the corpses in anger, growling at my misfortune. Damn ferals wasting my ammo. I sighed in frustration and turned around. There she was, on the computer, still trying to hack the damn thing. "How you doing?" I asked, and she sighed in frustration. "Not good. If it weren't for these things resetting when you turn them off, we'd've been locked out long ago." I did another sweep with my gun, listening carefully, then decided I could divert the attention. I looked at the screen, and found she was right: just this time, she had already used up three of her tries, and she wasn't even close to figuring out what the password.

"So, what do you plan on doing if you can't get it?" I asked, listening carefully for the sounds of more ferals. Damn things were more annoying than dog packs, even if they were weaker. She gave a short bark of laughter. "Have you shoot it with that ComShot you've got?" I laughed the same bark of laughter, lifting the Terrible Shotgun I had gotten off that raider merchant that had tried to shoot me in the back. "That'd probably cause more problems than it'd solve. What about lockpicking it?" I remarked, following up with a question. She gestured to the lock on the door, and I saw that it had eight broken bobby pins in it, and she had somehow broken the whole thing. "Great. Well, I guess you'll just have to keep going at it."

She set her head in her hands as if she had a migraine, and I set a small box of mentats down, along with one of the bottles of purified water I had. She thanked me and quickly took a couple, before returning to the computer. Meanwhile, I reloaded the Combat Shotgun that she had so effectively called the "ComShot" and left the room, listening for more ferals as I searched the immediate room for barricade materials. After all, it didn't seem like we were going to be leaving for quite some time.

Suddenly, I heard them coming. I whipped around, this time holding the Chinese sword that I had looted off some old corpse I had found. There were two, one was a roamer. I hated roamers, tougher than normal ferals yet just as stupid. I held the sword out and swung a good strike at the first one, the normal feral. I slash cut off his whole arm, but he simply thrust his head forward and gave me a good hit to my noggin.

My vision blurred and the roamer was suddenly on top of me, grabbing at my arm and pulling with inhuman strength. Finally, I was out of my daze and I lifted my legs, pushing the roamer just far enough away from me to give me time to grab my 10mm pistol. I raised it and fired, unleashing the entire magazine on the feral and sending him to the ground. I held my arm tightly, groaning at the pain. He had probably cacked a bone or something, with was definitely not something a stimpak could heal just like that, even with it's unnaturally strong healing abilities.

Great. Another trip to the doctor. I pulled myself, testing the use of my left arm, and found that I could use it somewhat shakily. Still, it'd be better to stick to the one handed weapons, and to pump myself full of stimpaks when I needed to move something heavy.

Suddenly, there was a cry of triumph from the room behind me. I rushed to her side, and found that the door was opening. I instinctively raised the 10mm I was still holding, but it was unnecessary. I looked at the veritable oasis within; armor, weapons, ammo, it had nearly everything. I rushed inside and immediately began to run through everything.

Almost all of it was junk, broken, rusted, incomplete, but I was surprised to see that a lot of it was actually easily fixable. "Those idiots… All you have to do is salvage the air hoses from this suit here and connect it to the back and get some kind of gas canister to fill, and it will work perfectly!" I muttered to myself as I ran between three different suits of power armor.

She chuckled at my excitement, and that snapped me back to reality. I turned to snap an insult at her but instead charged at her, pushing her to the side and firing my pistol at the charging Feral Reaver. "Fuck!" I screamed in exasperation, watching as the Reaver basically absorbed the bullets. I slammed the console just by the door, and it quickly closed, denying the reaver access, if only for a few seconds.

I quickly lifted the Terrible Shotgun from my back, aiming at the door and waiting for it to open. It opened, and as I expected the reaver charged forward, but I didn't allow it to attack me. Without pause, I fired the shotgun five times, tearing the Reaver up.

But it was still alive somehow, and I was had to fire yet another round into it's head to finish it off. I continued to aim at the supposedly dead ghoul for several minute, waiting for any kind of sign it might still be alive. Thankfully, I finally determined it wasn't, I quickly closed the door again.

I turned to her, and she immediately got the message. Over the next hour, we barricaded the door, making sure that only high level explosions such as several rockets would be able to breach the wall. Then, she tended to my wounds, most specifically my hurt arm.

Luckily, nothing had cracked, just one of the muscles had been stressed out a bit much. It was nothing serious. So, I began to pass the time by putting together the various weapons, armors, bots, and other assorted junk throughout the series of rooms.

As I searched through all of these, I found no sign of an exit, which was depressing; there was almost no chance that we'd be able to fight our way back to the surface the way we had come. If only we had brought Fawkes! The giant super mutant could have torn his way through the ferals like nothing, being even tougher than super mutant overlords!

Even if his zen mindset got annoying sometimes, it was a hell of a lot more preferable than dying here! I stopped moping about not bringing Fawkes and finally resumed my simultaneous search for an exit and for junk that I could turn into useful things. I saw at least three dozen things I could have turned into functioning robots with nothing more than a days time, and yet there was it was all dumped in this giant government trash bin.

Even if it weren't for the Enclave, I could tell that Americans were just plain wasteful to have let all this just sit around rotting. Well, I would need at least a week to build robots good enough to let us through the Ferals, and even then that wasn't assured.

Finally, after collecting about four hundred pounds worth of things in a giant tarp, I slowly made my way back to our 'base camp' in the trash can of the American government. It was in a small 'clearing' near where we entered, where you could walk on the ground instead of junk, and she was sitting by a fire she had apparently made, cooking what looked like radroach meat.

As I approached, I saw it really was radroach meat, which repelled me greatly. But, I was hungry, and radroach meat was first on our list for the "the order in which we eat food if we need to ration" so, radroach it was! I approached and she offered the radroach meat, and I quickly tore through the meat, hating the taste but forcing myself to eat it.

Radroaches didn't really have any real meat, it seemed more like some kind of solid bug-juice or something. In any case, it was absolutely horrid to the tongue and the stomach. I remember when I had first came out of the vault, for the first week, I puked every time I tried to eat radroach meat. Then, for the rest of the month I gagged and nearly threw up. It wasn't until I had been periodically eating radroach meat for about three months that I could eat it without nausea, and now it was simply a horrid taste.

We ate in silence, until finally I had eaten three of the things. "Where'd you find them?" I asked, because I knew she would have hit me if I tried to eat more than two in one meal on normal circumstances. "They were just scurrying around, so I killed a few." She said. Great.

That meant that we'd be eating nothing but Radroach for quite a while. Why did she always have to be so careful about food supplies, money, ect ect? It was just so annoying having her watching my every move. Only place I was free was with my own money, my weapons, and any junk I wanted to mess with.

She was good with medicine, math, computers, and people; I was good with the other things, like shooting, fixing stuff, and muscle work. Of course, if you wanted shooting things, you should get Jericho or Paladin Cross; if you wanted muscle work, the obvious choice was Fawkes; really, I was the only mechanic type guy among our circle of friends.

I put these thoughts out of my mind and finished my 'food', before looking at the barricaded door. I didn't turn back to her. "So, have you got a plan?" I asked, listening to the sound of the ghouls attacking the barricade. Even if they did that relentlessly, it would take weeks. "I give those robots you said you could build some AI?" She asked. I thought about that. I could make some decent AI, but it was still basic stuff, like what they put in protectrons. She could probably make AI that was better than mine. I accepted her proposal via two words: "All right. But, I want to go to sleep, my arm is killing me."

I laid my head on the blanket behind me, glad that she was smart enough to bring these. Blankets sure were useful in situations like these. Soon, my eyes were getting droopy, and my mind was beginning to get foggy. Then, suddenly, I was asleep, and my mind wandered in a lucid area close to a dream. The mind was foggy, he was walking, and then, he was falling down a deep black, murky hole.


	2. C2:Making One Freind and Killing Another

_C2: Making One Friend and Killing Another_

I woke up, not able to remember the dream I had. All I could remember was that it was horrible. I shuddered as I realized I was cold, and I looked around. It was dark, there were echoes every few seconds, and they were in a really big place. At first, panic set in and I crazily thought the sun had gone out, but then I remembered where we were. "Oh." I abruptly stated, trying to wonder which was worse; the sun going out or being stuck in here.

Then, I heard a sound, and on instinct twisted, aiming my pistol at her. "What?" She yelled, sending echoes in every direction and riling up the ghouls that had fallen asleep near the barricade. "Sorry, just woke up and had a bit of a panic attack." I said, looking at the remnants of our fire with a grimace. I lifted the pipboy to my face and pressed a button on the side. Light quickly projected from the small screen, making the surrounding very visible.

"So, our earlier plan still on?" I asked, not waiting for an answer and getting up, while reviewing my pipboy map for where I had marked a few piles of junk that could be quickly turned into a good combat bot. I began to walk in that direction; leaving her to catch up as she gathered the few things we had left there, like the blankets and a couple boxes to hold food.

"Of course." She replied as she followed me. I walked through the maze of junk, broken weapons and armor, and other assorted things. I finally found the marked point when I saw the tiny light that was my own personal invention. I had started making the markers about a week after I had left the vault, and they were incredibly useful. Before, with the pipboy, I could only set certain locations with a marker, but now, I could set any important place with one of the small lights that sent out a signal. They were difficult to make, but by now I had a few dozen to spare.

I looked through the various chunks of metal, electronics, and other various things, then found what I had been looking for; the remnants of an old, experimental sentry bot. Instead of normal ones, this only had two legs, and they were jointed like normal legs. Unfortunately, it was missing an arm, head, and most of the armor on the torso was missing.

I dragged the robot upward and watched as she viewed it herself. I saw her head nod in approval before I threw the robot in the middle of the path. "Grab the marker." I ordered, before moving to another bot; this one was a protectron that had had half the body destroyed. It didn't matter; all I needed was the arm.

Over the next several hours, I used several bots to turn the experimental sentry bot that had become a failure into my own personal warrior of death. Of course, it was still completely unoperational, on account of having no AI. Nonetheless, by the time I was finished, it was a masterpiece of makeshift robots.

It had a slightly smaller torso than that of a normal sentry bot, and was colored a deep reddish-black, like the bots that the Brotherhood Outcasts used. It had two legs, short and stout with two joints and the feet were large balls that would undoubtedly let it turn faster than normal sentries. The right arm was that of a protectrons', but the other held a minigun. I had replaced missing head with the targeting system of three different turrets, and there was even a small attached laser add-on near the side, attached to the power core of the main bot.

It was a grand weapon of war, and when I had finally finished putting the bot together, I decided to dub it the "Sentry Mark II" in honor of it's predecessors. I turned around to see how she was doing, and found that she was sitting in front of three or four computers, all connected together via various wires and cords. She was apparently progressing well, because she moved through screens filled with lines of numbers and such things.

I sat down besides her, watching as she worked on the AI for the bot. Then, after around another hour, she turned to me. "Okay. I've got it all down, just need to get a few basics for now, some things I thought you should decide. First of all; what do you want the designation to be; it's name." I thought back to what I had dubbed it, and answered shortly. "Mark II." She nodded and quickly resumed work for a few seconds.

"Okay, now, what words do you want it to respond to, and how?" She asked. I thought for a moment, then scrunched my face in distaste. "Can't you give it some kind of free program, where it'll think about things?" She nodded, but she spoke. "If I do that, it's reaction times will be a bit slower, so while it'll be more flexible, it won't be able to respond for a good four-point-three milliseconds or so. It doesn't seem like much, but it can still cause problems."

I thought about that. It was true. The slightest delay could mean life or death in combat situations. "Do it." I replied; sweat beginning to form as I hoped I had made the correct decision. She worked on that for several minutes, before asking me another question. "You still didn't tell me how you want it to act to orders." I thought about that for a moment. "Make it strict, but still lenient and definitely make it ruthless." She nodded, once again spending several minutes working on the bots 'personality' before turning to me, yet again. "Okay, last question: what do you want for activation codes, deactivation codes, and emergency abort codes?" I thought for a moment. "What do you mean by abort codes?" She sighed. 'I mean, if you say the 'abort code' it'll immediately stop whatever it's doing. It'll also give the system a shock, so it won't work so well for the next few minutes." I mused about the codes for a full minute, before saying them out loud.

"Activation: Open the Vault. Deactivation: Exile the Dweller. Abort: Bitter and Short." I said, my voice monotone as I spoke the ultimate codes. She looked at me worriedly at the last code, but I ignored her gaze until she set to making those the codes. Finally, after several minutes, she was finished. "Alright. It's done. Now, we just have to get this in the thing. That'll be your department; not mine." I nodded, and quickly stood up, taking the large chip she gave me.

I approached Sentry Mark II, and I then found the data port for the AI, near the bottom. I pressed it in, and I waited after speaking the activation code. And waited. And waited. Then, suddenly, the 'head' of the bot lifted upwards, one of the targeting sensors pointing directly at me. "Identification: Sentry Mark II. Purpose: Protection of Subjects. Identify yourself Subject."

I cleared my throat, the repeated the words that every newly activated bot needed to hear. "Identity: Terry Iridian, Vault Dweller, age twenty four. Current need: destruction of enemies designated "Feral Ghouls" and escape." The bot looked at me with all three targeting sensors, and then a small green light flashed. "Acknowledge. Nearby life signs detected: enemy?" I shook my head no, and the green light flashed again.

"Diagnostics report this unit has non-model body parts: right arm has been replaced with Protectron Unidentified Model, main sensors have been replaced with Unidentified Targeting Sensors, likely of Automated Turret Mark III origin. Is this unit in need of repair and/or reparations?" I shook my head no once more, then spoke. "Perform diagnostic of internal systems. Report any anomalies within AI system."

The bot whirred as it preformed another diagnostic. 'No anomalies. Custom AI model in use, likely to be made by experienced hacker. Is this acceptable?" I nodded, and, once more, the light flashed. "Do you find yourself suited to combat with several close combatants for extended periods of time?" I asked, and 'Mark' began his calculations. "Depending on several factors, the best outcome this unit can find is a thirty percent chance that we succeed with minor injuries. High chance this unit will be destroyed unless assisted. Combat ability is twenty percent higher than average Sentry Bots. Can detailed analysis of enemies be provided?" I thought for a moment, then went through my pipboy. There, I found in my notes the section where I detailed everything about the enemies I fought. It helped greatly for planning out my fighting strategies.

I pressed several buttons on the pipboy, and there was soon a signal being sent from it to Sentry Mark II. Its sensors turned to me. "Foreign signal detected. Accept?" I nodded, and soon all the information I had on Feral Ghouls was being sent to the bot. It stood completely still for a full minute, before the 'brain' of the bot began whirring again. "Information accepted. Chances of survival with minor injuries increased to fifty percent. Chances of this unit's destruction lowered significantly."

I nodded. "Okay. Do you feel you require further maintenance?" I asked, and Mark II seemed to tilt it's sensors in regard. "Combat ability is acceptable. In regard to downloaded information, this unit does not require further deviation from original design as of this time." The bot replied. I held my chin and thought about that. "Alright. So, we're going to leave this place soon. How much weight can you carry without significantly lowering our chances of survival with minimal injury?" The bot thought for a moment, then answered. "Approximately three hundred pounds, depending on items carried and item used to carry everything."

I nodded. "Okay, I want you to gather as many weapons, armor sets, basically anything I could use until you can't carry anymore without affecting your total weight limit. We'll move out in a bit." The bot nodded. "Acknowledge." 'He' said, and I soon walked towards her. "Come on; gather up as much stuff as you can. We're leaving in thirty minutes, and we're not gonna come back for a week at the least." She nodded, and began gathering up as much of the computers as she could easily take. I did the same, except I was gathering parts that I could use, and I found many things that I liked. I stuffed most of it into a large pack, and within thirty minutes it was nearly bursting open. Finally, I followed the map on my pipboy.

There was Mark II, and she was there, lugging a pack even bigger than mine. She was behind Mark II, and she was waiting. "Sorry I'm late!" I apologized before approaching the barricade. "Okay. Ready, Mark II?" The green light flashed. I quickly pulled out the small stand support, and much of the upper parts of the barricade fell apart. I crawled my way to the top, with the two behind me following more clumsily. I was glad to see that in our time away from the door, the ferals had dispersed, so I didn't have to defend the small room past the barricade until the other two got over the barricade.

I turned around and was glad to see they had made it over. "Mark II, you take front, stay close to the walls and aim for the legs." I ordered, and the light flashed acknowledgement. "You, just keep back and try to pick at their heads. Use that old 10mm I gave you way back when." I told her, before I took up my own position just to the side of Mark II. Then, as we moved, I began to hear the ferals. Suddenly, as we moved through a doorway, I heard several ghouls yell. They came in and rushed us, quickly being put down by the combined power of my shotgun and Mark II's minigun.

The bullets tore through the ferals without relent, and even the Glowers were quickly torn down under our onslaught. Then, suddenly, _they_ attacked. The damned Reavers, charging forward as bullets ripped through their bodies. Luckily, this was when Mark II began to employ the use of his protectron laser arm, as well as the small laser on his makeshift head. So, even the Reavers went down reasonably quickly.

It went like this for over an hour, the three of us making our way through the ghoul infested tunnels and getting by without any of the ghouls really getting at us, though they occasionally managed to land on Mark II, at which point I had to kick them off. Finally, we reached the surface, and as soon as we were there, I yelled out to the both of them. "Run, now!" I ran without any hesitation myself, and I heard the sound of the bot and the girl as they followed in my footsteps.

I let myself slow just a tiny bit, and I looked behind me. She was running well, as she always had. Mark II was having some problems, and I found I should have paid more attention to his mobility; his legs bent well, but he nearly fell at every hole or bump. I cursed and stopped, turning around and pulling the Chinese Assault Rifle I had looted from some super mutant in the mall years ago. By now, it was barely an assault rifle anymore.

I had made the replaced the stock with longer wood, modified the whole thing to be more long range oriented, and now it was much better fit for long range. One shot, two, three, each of my bullets tore into a feral and either killed them or sent them sprawling backwards. Mark II was still slow, but he managed to catch up with us. Then, I began running backwards, firing the rifle with increased fervor as the Ferals caught up.

I finally gave up and reached into the bag that I'd been dragging the whole way. Out came a mine and I pressed the button, before tossing it out in front of me before turning around and running. The boom of the mine nearly deafened me, but I ignored the ringing in my ears and moved the rifle from my hands to my back. Then, I reached for the 10mm at my side and began to fire it behind myself, hitting the approaching wall of Ferals. Then, as we ran through the desolated streets, I saw the thing that was a god send in my eyes; Rivet City. The Ferals behind us were thinning out, but it would still be disastrous to stop here.

Then, I pivoted on the balls of my feet, turning around and running up the ramp, following the bot and the girl. I yelled out when I suddenly felt something burning, and the familiar feel of radiation engulfed me. Something grabbed my foot, and it began to drag me down. I looked down and saw it was a Reaver. With his legs almost completely mutilated. I yelled and kicked it in the face, but it kept grasp.

I suddenly saw a bullet strike the ghoul in the face, and I knew that it had come from her gun. I fumbled for my gun, and then I lifted the pistol, launching three rounds directly into the Reavers' skull. "Get the fuck off me!" I screamed, but the ghoul continued to keep hold, some form of strangled speech escaping it's mouth.

Then, I took hold of the combat knife that was strapped to my leg, I pulled it out of the sheath, and I rammed it right into the ghouls face. Finally, the grasp the feral held on my leg weakened, and I scrambled upwards, launching up the ramp, oblivious to the multitude of rounds that flew over my head into the onrushing horde. Finally, all three of us made it across the bridge, and the security quickly began to fire at the horde behind us.

They were all armed with assault rifles, courtesy of a donation I had made two years ago. It had left me nearly broke, but they had made quite a lot of improvements upon the old warship in the time since. I finally turned around, breathing heavily and looking at the crowd of feral ghouls that was quickly decimated. I cheered, and she did the same beside me. We both yelled and screamed for joy at our own survival, and I collapsed on the ground, hitting my bum hard. I didn't care though, I was just glad we had survived.

I looked up at her, and then at Mark II. "Guys, do you want to stay here or head to Megaton?" I asked, finally lifting myself up. Mark II spoke first. "This unit believes staying here would be the most efficient option." I nodded, and then turned to her. "You?" She nodded, and spoke. "Yeah, let's stay here for a couple days." I nodded again, and we all turned to the door, where Harkness was with his plasma rifle, just beside Lana Danvers.

We approached the two, and once again I nearly flinched at the sight of Lana's growing stomach. Luckily, this time at least I kept my body and face straight. I could remember Harkness talking to me three months ago. In fact, the memory was vivid in it's absolute strangeness.

/Three months earlier/

"I need to talk to you… In private." Harkness told me. I nodded, wondering exactly what Harkness had to talk to me about. He led me to the place he considered 'private': the 'roof' of the aircraft carrier. He took a deep breath, and I found his glowing green orb-eyes staring directly at me. "I need advice."

Huh? Harkness, needing advice? "Umm… Okay. What about?" Harkness took another deep breath. "About… well… I don't know how to say this… About relationships." My mouth nearly fell off. Harkness simply continued. "I've recently began to date Commander Danvers. While that in itself is okay, there have been several things I've worried about, and you being the only man that knows what I am, you were the only one I could turn to."

"While I _do_ have the, erm, equipment, there've been a few things to cross my mind. Two in particular. The first is the fact that I'm an android, so, well, I don't really age. I don't know what I should do about that. But, I really don't want to think about that. So, I'll go with the one that I think is easier for you. Children. I have complete knowledge of my body, and I know that if I were to acquire the… the… liquid, I would be capable of procreation. The problem is, I have none. I was built to appear real, and procreation was not part of that."

I was speechless. This was something had never thought of when I bailed Harkness out. I had no idea that he would actually start a relationship with someone. Then the full understanding of what he was asking dawned. He was asking for me to 'donate' to him. I raised my hands and stuttered out my speech. "Ah, well, I think, I think that'd be good for you, but… but, I really wouldn't feel comfortable to see… to see Miss Danvers pregnant from… from mine…" I attempted to continue but failed miserably. Harkness could see how exasperated I was, and he spoke quickly.

""I'm sorry I'm giving you such a thing to think about but… I need help, and you're the only person I can trust." I took a deep breath, calming my nerves. "Alright. I'm calm. I'm good. I can do what you need. Just… just when?" I asked. I was sweating, and my eyes were bulging out. Harkness sighed in relief, and over the next two hours we discussed my donation and the matter of Harkness not aging.

/Now/

After that, everything had been worked out, Harkness had a plan for dealing with his lack of age, and I had donated to him. It still creeped me out, but I had learned to just deal with it. I ignored the weird feeling I got from looking at Danvers, and focused on Harkness who was speaking. "Looks like you had quite the problem, huh Terry?" I barked laughter, then replied. "Just a bit. I'll help out with cleaning the place up, that okay?" Harkness nodded, and Lana started barking out orders. She was always the most authoritive of Rivet City Security.

I felt my mind wander to the thought of just who the baby would take after, and I found myself desperately hoping that it would take after Lana. Could problems arise if it looked like me? Not with Harkness, obviously, but what about Danvers herself? I suddenly shook my head, clearing the useless thoughts from my mind. I refocused my attention upon the cleaning of the Rivet City entrance, and while the bridge was fairly easy; just kick the bodies into the river, and what remained of the mirelurks would handle them.

The other ones were more annoying. The ones we didn't outright burn with either laser weapons or flat-out flamers, we had to drag to the river or to the giant trash compact we had made in the ruins of the old super mutant camp. When I found the Reaver that had held on to my leg, it was still alive. It had several bullet wounds to the head, it's legs were barely anything more than bloody mulch, and it was somehow still breathing.

Instead of letting the nearby guard fry it with the flamer he had, I dragged it away from the entrance, near one of the aircraft, and shove it into the cockpit of the plane. Then, I shoved six stimpaks into it. It certainly didn't 'bring it back to life' but the stims certainly forced it to hold tight for just a little bit longer. I had something I wanted to try.

So for the next several hours the three of us, with the help of the citizens of Rivet City, cleaned up the mess we had made. When we were done, I made her and Mark II follow me, and I showed them the just-alive Feral Ghoul Reaver.

"This is the same one that attacked you? Why are you leaving it alive?" She asked. "Because… I guess I just want to see." She looked confused. "See what?" I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. "I dunno. Anything, I guess…" She looked down upon the passed out ghoul. It was true that it was difficult to capture live Ferals, and she didn't know of any captured live Feral Reavers. The most she knew of captive Reavers was a barely-feral one that the Church of Atom had kept, years back. I looked at the ghoul with curiosity. "What do you think, Mark?"

The bot thought for a moment, before replying. "This unit believes the Reaver to be a security risk. Currently, the chances of it harming us are minimal, five percent at the most. But, should we keep it for an extended period of time, the risk of it harming us or others shall increase, unless we keep it under strict conditions."

I nodded. That was obvious, there was absolutely no way I was going to just keep a Feral Ghoul Reaver in some metal cage and expect it to last. I would bet that the barricade we built wouldn't last a day against twenty or so Reavers, simply because they're so much more vicious than normal Ferals. So, I would put it in the most secure area I could think of. I would put it a sewer.

It wouldn't just be any random sewer; it would be this one I had found after turning on some broadcast tower. It was a decent place to keep a captive, and something was telling me there was something different about this feral. When it was attacking me, it didn't have the primal instinct in it's eyes. It had looked more like… something. Something I couldn't quite remember.

It probably wasn't too important. I put it out of my mind and turned my attention back to the two. "Where's our gear?" I asked, and was glad to see that Mark II was dragging the three bags behind it. "Good. Now, help me get this guy some medical attention." She nodded, the bot flashed acknowledgement, and we began our work of dragging the half-dead Reaver to a place where we could make it at the very least only a quarter dead. That'd be enough.


End file.
